


you can't save the world alone

by middnighter



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 02:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17051501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middnighter/pseuds/middnighter
Summary: Ethan knew better than to be secretive about his injuries.





	you can't save the world alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [simplecoffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplecoffee/gifts).



> happy holidays!!! working on this fic was really fun and i hope you enjoy reading it!

Ethan knew better than to be secretive about his injuries.

When it came down to it, staying alive and being able to do the job was more important than personal pride. He wouldn’t have lasted long in the field as long as he had if he didn’t know how to let his body rest and recover.

With that said, there were times when there was no other option than pull through and get the job done. Sometimes, ignoring the pain was the only reasonable thing to do, like when you had to hurl yourself four stories down while inside a car. But most times, there was always someone Ethan could fall back onto.

It hadn’t always been like that, and Ethan remembered clear as day the mission that made him understand that he couldn’t do this alone, no matter how much he wanted to.

They had to get some stolen government documents back that would have given out the names and addresses of agents and their families. Ethan had climbed his way into the building, expecting a simple break-in-and-get-out situation, but the room was more heavily guarded than they had anticipated. Ethan managed to fight them off, but got a couple of nasty stabs in the fight.

Ethan slipped the USB drive in his pocket and stroke a few keyboard keys, erasing the data from the computer. He tore a piece of fabric off his shirt and wrapped it around the wound in his thigh, watching it get slowly soaked with his blood in a quiet daze. He ripped another piece of fabric and used it to wipe the blood and the sweat off his face. He didn’t have the time to tend to his other wounds, so that would have to do until he got somewhere safe.

_If_ he got somewhere safe. He didn’t have any illusions regarding how much blood he lost, how serious his injuries were. If anyone else came barging through the doors, if the men he fought off called reinforcements, he was done. Still, he took out his knife and held it in front of him. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Staying here would only make him an easy target, and his best chance of getting out of this building in one piece was to put as much distance as he could between himself and the computer room, not sticking around and waiting. So he took a few steps forward, ignored how his body was screaming with pain, and said into his earpiece, “I got it,” trying to keep his voice steady. “See you at the meeting point.”

He turned out the reply on the other end. He couldn’t afford to get distracted. Now, he only had two stories to walk up to get to the roof and wait for the helicopter.

He could do it. He could.

Each step was torture, his injured leg sending waves of blinding white pain through his entire body, and after what felt like miles of stairs, Ethan reached the rooftop. He leaned against the door and fumbled with the handle until it opened, making him stumble forward.

Ethan took a few uneasy steps and sat down, and tried to level his breathing. Back-up was on its way, he would be all right. It didn’t matter that he was seeing dark spots, that his entire body was shaking from exhaustion. They had the data they needed. The job was done.

Ethan lost consciousness with a smile on his lips.

* * *

Ethan opened his eyes to a familiar white ceiling lit up with bright cold artificial lights. All hospitals looked the same, sounded the same, even felt the same. The quiet beeping of the machines was strangely soothing.

He turned his head to the side and saw Luther sitting in a chair next to his bed. He looked ruffled, like he had been staying here for quite some time, and Ethan felt a twist of guilt in his stomach. He didn’t want his friend to worry.

“How long was I out?” Ethan asked, surprised by how weak his voice sounded.

“About a day,” Luther said, his voice somewhere between concerned and relieved. “A miracle you made it, this time.”

Ethan’s mind was too cloudy to find something articulate to say. It was probably because of the painkillers. He closed his eyes and relished in the numbness of his body, while it lasted. “Just like every other time,” he said, almost in a hum.

Luther stayed silent for a second, and Ethan heard him flip a newspaper and toss it aside. “It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“Like what?”

“You. Alone. Not letting anyone in.” Luther’s voice turned accusatory, but Ethan didn’t feel bad. He did what he had to do. “You could’ve called backup, you know.”

Ethan looked at Luther. Any other time, he would have been able to give a justification for why he didn’t, but drugs were being fed into his arm and he was too hazy to come up with something that made sense. And this was Luther. Luther always saw through him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. His voice lowered when he said, after a pause, “I can’t let anyone else get hurt.”

“You’re not unkillable, Ethan, no matter how much you like to think you are.” Luther’s forehead creased with worry. “ There’s a reason we work as a team. You need to let yourself rely on us.”

Ethan could have contested that, argued that he managed, he always managed, no matter the circumstances, and there was no need to endanger other people more than necessary, but it would have been in bad faith, given that he was laying in a hospital bed, too weak to move, too exhausted to think.

Luther leaned forward and put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, in a strangely soothing gesture. “You’re not alone. Stop acting like you are.”

“Tell me that again when I’m standing on my feet,” Ethan said, looking into his eyes. He found himself wishing he had enough strength to cover Luther’s hand with his own.

Luther’s gaze softened. “Will do,” he said, and Ethan fell back to sleep, at peace for the first time in a long while.


End file.
